


The Briony Mandrake

by Hold_en



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst and Porn, F/M, Forbidden Love, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Headmaster Severus Snape, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Severus Snape Lives, Teacher-Student Relationship, snamione, snanger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hold_en/pseuds/Hold_en
Summary: A lost boy.A lonesome girl.A Briony Mandrake.Who knew all of these would lead to Hermione Granger in Headmaster Snape's bed?*This is a shameless Porn(with minor)Plot that I wanted to give my readers because they are the most wonderful people.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 66
Kudos: 433





	1. Chapter one: The Mandrake

**Author's Note:**

> As tradition, when holidays roll around I like to gift my readers with something delicious to enjoy. St. Valentine's in no different, and so I hope you enjoy this short tale. It will be posted today, updated on the 9th and then complete on Valentine's Day. Please leave lots of encouraging reviews for me so I can continue to bring you fun little fics !!
> 
> Please note that due to the rather silly nature of this plot, my characters are not as in character as they normally would be! Snape would never be this naughty... But that makes it rather fun, don’t you think?

“Hermione, I need to talk to you.”

The brunette leaning against the base of the tree let out a surprised screech before gripping her wand and pointing it up at Neville.

“Sorry,” Neville said with a wince. “I forgot how you get-“

Hermione shook her head, offering a shaky smile. “It’s fine.”

Hermione felt her heartbeat return to a normal pace before she lowered her wand. One again she leaned against an ancient oak that sat on the edge of Hogwart’s grounds. It

was quiet and allowed for prime studying without distraction. But now, here she was, being distracted by a dusty looking Neville.

Neville always wore the look of an extremely concerned badger, and it never ceased to amuse Hermione. She glanced at his uniform completely covered in mud and dirt.  
“You look as if you’ve been digging.”

Neville nodded, sitting down beside her and causing a poof of dust to rise from his clothing. “I was in the forbidden forest, gathering some things for Herbology when I heard something in the earth underneath my feet.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide, unsure of how to process what Neville was saying. The forbidden forest, even now, made her anxious.

“I was carrying wax for my ears,” Neville continued on, oblivious to his friend’s anxiety. “I put them in my ears and started digging. Took me a bit of time, but I finally found it.”

“Found what?”

With a flourish, Neville had reached into his book bag on the ground next to him and produced what appeared to be a larger than normal mandrake. Its mouth opened slightly and Hermione clapped her hands over her ears.

“You don’t need to,” Neville explained, seeing the dirty look Hermione was throwing at him. “That’s the thing, he’s not like normal mandrakes. I didn’t need the wax.”

  
The mandrake, as if knowing it was being spoken about, give a strange garbled noise. It fluttered its green leaves around as if shaking off a chill.

“It doesn’t appear to be making much noise,” Hermione conceded, lowering her hands gently to her lap before peering at the squirming creature. Unlike the ones they had de-potted in her second year, this mandrake was more mature looking and calm. It was covered in a thick layer of dirt and appeared to be nuzzling against Neville’s hand, which cupped it like a newborn baby.

“He’s rather cute don’t ya think?” Neville said with a toothy grin. “As soon as I saw him I knew I had to show him off to you.”

Hermione stared at the calm plant, leaning forward to see it from all angles. From all she could tell, this was simply an oversized mandrake that didn’t feel the need to scream.

“A mandrake?” Hermione said supportively, trying her best not to seem disappointed.

“Not just any mandrake,” Neville explained, looking rather disappointed. “It’s a Briony Mandrake.”

“I’ve read about them,” Hermione nodded slowly. “They’re remarkably rare and are rumored to have different properties than the strain we learned about in school.”

“Exactly,” Neville

“It seems unbelievable that you would find one,” Hermione mused absently to herself. “But then again, everything at Hogwarts seems rather unbelievable.”

After all that had happened to them in the last year, nothing should really shock Hermione by now. She had helped to defeat Voldemort, she had spoken in defence of Snape at his trial, she had been given an Order of Merlin first class, and now, a year later she had returned to Hogwarts to finish her final year.

She still had the scars of the war, even if they weren’t all visible.

“This is amazing,” Hermione said honestly. “But why show it to me? Surely Sprout would be a better person to show it off to. Or even Headmaster Snape.”

Despite all they’d been through, Neville still made a grimace at the latter name. He shook his head quickly.

“No, I want to try an experiment,” Neville explained. “One they’d never allow. And I need you to help me; you’re the only one I trust enough.”

“And why do you think I’d go against school rules?” Hermione questioned, tilting her head in indignation. “After all, I am Head Girl this year.”

“You’re also the girl that made a perfect Polyjuice in her second year,” Neville reminded her. “And because this is something that will help both of us.”

With his free hand, Neville had started rummaging around in his bag once more before producing a large pale green book. Hermione glanced it over “ _Herbology’s Uncommon Uses”_. Hermione had seen Neville carrying it around before – it was a book from his Gran’s private library. She’d sent it along with Neville for his final year, knowing the boy was majoring in Herbology.

“Look at this,” Neville said excitedly throwing the book open and pointing a dirt-laden finger on the page. Hermione followed to where he was pointing, her dark eyes scanning the page back and forth at a quick rate.

_The Briony Mandrake is set apart from its cousin, the Mandrake by its quiet tone and inner ability. While the Mandrake is traditionally used in potions and pastes, the Briony Mandrake is included solely in spell work._

_The most common of which is the Geminus spell or the “double”. This spell enables the caster to create a physical double. It takes on the physical or mental trait the caster finds undesirable and manifests in its own physical double._

“Wait,” Hermione said softly before looking up at Neville. “You can take something you don’t like about yourself and put it into this double of yourself?”

“Exactly,” Neville nodded eagerly. “Think of it, Hermione. All the scars we have from battle. All the fear we feel if someone talks too loudly? The way that your heart races if you hear sudden noises? The way that you can’t let Ron touch you anymore? All of those inhibitions and fears and feelings would be gone!”  
Hermione’s head snapped up so quickly she thought she heard her bones snap. “How do you-“

“Boy’s talk,” Neville finished sagely.

Hermione’s face went a deep red at the knowledge that Ron had been talking about their lack of intimacy. How could she explain that after Ron had deserted them in the Forest of Dean, she’d been unable to respect him? How touching him felt wrong and unpleasant? Ron had shown his cowardice and her body would not move past it.

It had created a tension that made her sick. Seeing Ron and knowing she didn’t want him to come near her. Knowing that soon he would catch on and then what? She would lose Harry and Ginny. She would lose the chosen family she had cultivated. She would lose everything.

As it was she and Ron had been in a row over their lack of physical affection only last week and both he and Harry had been mute. She hadn’t heard from them – not a visit, nor an owl. Ginny gave her tight smiles and brief waves, but even she seemed to be pulling back.

“Well what happens to this double, then?” Hermione said her jaw tight. “It just gets to go on living with all our worst parts?”

“That’s just the thing,” Neville explained with a smile. “They just fade away within minutes!”

“That’s horrid!” Hermione insisted. “That’s practically murder!”

In her opinion, Hermione had always been on the right side of magical history. Knowingly causing a creature harm made her feel ill.

“It’s not,” Neville said with a frown. “They were never alive to begin with.”

Despite the warm May afternoon, Hermione felt the gooseflesh rise up on her entire body at what Neville was suggesting.

“Neville this is dark magic,” Hermione insisted, feeling her stomach tilt uncomfortably. Neville suddenly looked haunted sitting across from her, cradling the sleeping mandrake.

His eyes were so much older looking than the rest of his pinched face.

“I know,” Neville said with a sigh that sounded like a muffled cry. “But aren’t you tired of living like this, Hermione? Scared and isolated?”

Hermione found that for once, she did not have a ready answer.


	2. Chapter 2: The Spell

Hours after curfew that evening, Hermione and Neville said in the second year girls’ lavatory, listening for any sounds that indicated someone nearby. Thankfully the large room was mercifully quiet and they were left to their own devices. Even Myrtle had decided to spend her time in the Prefect’s bath, rather than watch Hermione and Neville plotting.

Hermione had been driven to distraction the entire day, so much so that she messed up on a simple potion and lost five house points, handed in an Arithmancy parchment to her Transfiguration Professor and almost walked into the same group of first-years twice.

She had thought of what Neville was saying and found in her weaker moments that she could see the seduction of what he was offering. He was offering a clean slate, a life free of baggage. He was offering her a hopeful future. And yet still something held her back.

“So let me make sure I understand this,” Hermione said, looking at the sleeping mandrake between them. It smelled strongly of dirt and wet wood. “When we ingest this leaf and cast this spell, we’ll have the opportunity to divest ourselves of any emotional turmoil we don’t want?”

“Yes,” Neville nodded, his voice echoing in the cavernous lavatory. “But only the one.”

“And this part of us will manifest in a physical form?”

“Correct?”

“And then it just fades away? It doesn’t hurt them? You’re sure?”

Neville nodded.

“And we need each other to do it, because the caster can’t put the spell on themselves?”

“Right.”

Hermione stood, suddenly feeling that sitting cross legged across from Neville was too relaxed for the pulse that beat a staccato in her veins. 

She pressed her forehead to the stone wall, closing her eyes tightly and trying to stop the whirling of her mind. She knew that this was wrong, what Neville was suggesting. Yet the seductive allure to erase a part of her she didn’t like? That served no purpose?

And yet where had this need come from? This urgency that was coming from Neville? She whirled around, fixing him with an inquisitive stare.

"Neville why are you so... Adamant about this? This doesn’t seem like you.” “I’ve changed a lot since the war.”

“I know,” Hermione nodded. “But still…” 

Neville looked at the slumbering mandrake in his hands and before Hermione could prompt him to speak again, his eyes were flooded with tears. They glistened in the candlelight as he looked up at her. 

"My parents.” His voice was choked. “I need to test it first before I bring it to them.”

Realization dawned on Hermione then. Neville wasn’t doing this for himself – he was doing it for his parents. His parents who had lost their minds to the horrors of dark magic and torture of Bellatrix. His parents who had a myriad of demons they would likely love to be unburdened with. Tears pricked Hermione’s eyes as she realized Neville was making sure he himself was the guinea pig for it.

“If it goes to pot or doesn't work, I don't...I just don't want to give them hope if I can't come through for them,” Neville explained in a voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to give _myself_ hope." 

His chin fell to his chest as silent tears slid down his reddened cheeks. Hermione placed a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder and gave a mothering squeeze.

"I understand." 

She moved to the far side of the room, lost in thought. Silent moments passed in which Hermione weighed all the pros and cons of what they were about to embark on. Of course the cons far outweighed the pros, but looking at the haunted face of Neville, Hermione had her answer. 

“Will we forget what happened?” Hermione said, twisting her neck around to look at Neville over her shoulder.

“No,” Neville said firmly. “I did some research in the restricted section and the only thing removed is the feeling or physical reminder. Nothing else is gone. You can remember bad things but without the emotion or anxiety.”

It sounded good. It sounded so wonderful that Hermione couldn’t quite believe it. But she’d agreed to it already, hadn’t she? Merely by meeting Neville she knew she had agreed.

“What are you choosing?” Hermione asked, glancing over at her friend. Neville looked a bit nervous as he spoke. “I mean, before you give it to your parents.”

“I get these really vivid nightmares about the war,” Neville explained with a shy shrug. “They won’t stop no matter what I do or what potions I take.”

“Are they really awful?”

“Yeah,” Neville’s eyes were wet. “They are.”

Hermione nodded, unable to say more. She could understand why Neville wanted this escape. Not just to help his parents shake off their demons, but himself as well.

“What’ll you choose, Hermione?”

Hermione thought a moment, her mind going to the tension she felt at loud noises. The dread when she heard the name “ _Bellatrix_ ”. But these paled in comparison to the ache she felt living without her best friends. They had become a touchstone for safety and love. Without them and with her parents still upset with her about the mind modifications, she felt remarkably alone.

But how to get her friends back? The only way she could think of was to go back to being the girl she had been before the war. Before Ron’s abandonment. The smart, determined girl with a large heart and a propensity to forgiveness. A girl who felt everything – good and bad.

“I... I want to feel again,” Hermione said awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed to be discussing this with Neville of all people. “Specifically romantic feelings for Ron. Ever since the war I’ve... turned those parts of me off. I want them back on.”

_I want him to touch my body and for me not to feel repulsed. I want to kiss him and not feel disgusted. When we are back together we’ll all be friends again. It’ll be just like before. It will all go back to being the same._

Neville stood abruptly, pulling the mandrake up with him and plucking the two largest leaves at the top of its head. It gave a small grumble before twisting a bit and falling back to sleep in Neville’s arms. Hermione was relieved to see that plucking its leaves didn’t hurt it.

“One for you, one for me,” Neville said, placing the Mandrake back into his book bag. It slumbered peacefully, no longer making a sound.

Neville stood, handing out the leaf to Hermione. She took it between trembling fingers and a small ‘ _thank you’_.

“You’ve got the spell memorized?” Neville gave her a questioning look.

“I do.”

“All right then. Let’s start.” Neville pushed the leaf into his mouth and began to chew soundly. “Tastes like dirt.”

Hermione giggled at the strange expression on her friend’s face. He looked as if he had taken a large dose of liquid Thestral excrement. Her laughter died with a squeak at the sound of shuffling on the stone floor. Her eyes went wide and she was gripped with an overwhelming fear that they were doing something wrong.

“Hello?”

Silence greeted them.

“You’re imagining things,” Neville said, swallowing thickly. “Probably Myrtle coming to spy.”

“I just don’t know about this,” Hermione expressed in a concerned whisper. “We could be caught.”

“We’re Gryffindors,” Neville said with a lopsided grin. “We’re supposed to be a little reckless.”

With that he had swallowed the rest of the mandrake leaf, wincing as it slid down his throat. Hermione watched as he made a disgusted face, sticking his tongue out and she giggled nervously again.

“Not that great going dow-“

Before he could finish the sentence, Neville gripped his abdomen, bending over and causing Hermione to let out a small yelp of surprise.

“Neville!”

The young man made a retching noise before falling to his knees. Hermione was unsure what to do – she knew Neville wanted the spell cast, but first she needed to make sure he was going to be okay.

She rushed to his side, gripping his shoulder and trying to peer into his eyes.

“The spell Hermione,” Neville groaned, clutching at his stomach. His eyes were wide and his forehead drenched with sweat. “Cast the spell or this will be for nothing!”

Hermione made a small groan of disapproval before pointing her wand at Neville and speaking in a low, melodic voice.

“ _In hoc carmine ego dico, accipe: et in dolore dolet auferat._ _Create geminus meo, ad meritumque malis advertite._ _Auferat de Nevill 'sequuntur somnia_.” 

A jet of blue shot from Hermione’s vine wand, circling Neville’s body and settling over him like a second skin. It rested there like fallen snow before seeming to be absorbed into Neville’s clothing.

Hermione watched with jaw agape as Neville’s body began to twitch. He was quiet, but his face was contorted painfully. His dark blonde hair was sticking to his cheeks and forehead, both suddenly slick with sweat.

“Oh what have we done?”

Before Hermione could dart out into the corridor in search of help there was a light emanating from Neville. She paused, stepping slowly towards him.

A glow began, subtle and then surrounding his entire body. 

Neville’s body shot into the air, his body jerking into a standing motion. He gave a small moan before being lifted into the air a fraction. Suddenly Hermione’s focus was back and her wand was aimed at Neville once more making a a large C-shaped motion.

“ _Auferat de Nevill 'sequuntur somnia_ _,”_ Hermione cried out, remembering that she needed to end the spell with the command three times _. “_ _Auferat de Nevill 'sequuntur somnia_ _!_ _Auferat de Nevill 'sequuntur somnia_ _!”_

As soon as the last intonation left her lips Neville floated to the floor, falling onto his back as if he were in the deepest of slumbers. Hermione ran and kneeled at his side, her heart in her throat.

“Neville!” Hermione watched dumbfounded as Neville struggled to a sitting position.

Before she could touch his body, the glow that had settled into Neville was suddenly leeching from his body. It filtered off, like particles of Neville’s soul into the far side of the lavatory. The two of them watched in shock as the particles suddenly connected to one another, forming the gossamer shape of a see-through Neville.

“Merlin’s balls,” Neville said in a low gasp of surprise.

The ghostly Neville stretched, surprising the two figures kneeling on the floor. It began to jump, arching back in the air and contorting into bizarre shapes.

The real Neville crab walked backwards, desperate to find purchase from the wall behind them. Hermione watched as the real Neville whimpered, pressing against the stone wall with his eyes blown wide and unblinking.

“Neville? What’s wrong?”

“Can’t you see it?” Neville said, his voice choked with sobs. “It’s my nightmare.”

Hermione looked back at the image, seeing nothing but the ghostly visage of Neville silently screaming. She could see nothing out of the ordinary aside from that, yet the anguish on the ghost-Neville’s face chilled her.

“Neville-“ Hermione went to call over her shoulder, but before her eyes, the image of the ghost Neville began to fade until nothing remained but a sheen in the air. Soon that evaporated as well.

“It’s gone,” Neville said in a voice of awe. He stood rushing over to Hermione and hugging her tightly. Hermione wasn’t surprised to find that she was trembling in his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Hermione said with a relieved laugh. “I was worried a moment.”

“I wasn’t,” Neville said, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. “I knew you’d cast it perfectly.”

Hermione laughed again, relief flooding her body. Neville was safe! He was alright! The two embraced a moment longer before Neville pulled back, looking at Hermione with anticipation. “It’s so strange but... I feel better already.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Just a bit at the start,” Neville admitted. “Like a weird sort of ache that went all over my body. It got proper sharp in parts but then it was like... It was like it was leaving my body.”

“You said you saw something,” Hermione’s offered. “You said you saw your nightmares.”

“I did,” Neville said, furrowing his brow. “You couldn’t see it?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “It just looked like you.”

“I suppose its individual to the person,” Neville explained with a shrug. “Be thankful you couldn’t see it. It was proper awful.”

Hermione gave him a tight squeeze before pulling back. “Do you feel any different?”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded. “I feel...lighter. It’s hard to describe.”

He rubbed the remaining glaze from his eyes and lifted his wand in Hermione’s direction.

“Your turn.”

Hermione paused, unsure of if she wanted to continue. But looking at Neville who already looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, she decided to throw caution to the wind and nodded.

Neville smiled broadly and minutes later Hermione was swallowing the mandrake leaf and grimacing. It really did taste like dirt. Dirt and copper.

“Ready?”

Hermione nodded a split second before the pain in her belly began. The dull ache Neville had been referring to – like cramps more acute and quickly spreading through her entire frame. She fell to the ground, her knees scraping the floor as she did.

Neville stood to the side, raising his wand and pointing it at his friend. With a confidence he’d never had before the war, he

 _“_ _In hoc carmine ego dico, accipe: et in dolore dolet auferat._ _Create geminus meo, ad meritumque malis advertite._ _Hermione coram auferat locus. Et rursus eius sentire_.” 

Neville’s wand shook as the blue light began to surround Hermione. He saw as his friend went through the same motions as him –jerky movement and her body starting to float in midair, the blue haze surrounding her. 

“ _Hermione coram auferat loc_ _-“_

All at once the door to the lavatory burst open. Neville’s wand wobbled in surprise and Hermione, once in the air, lowered painfully in the corner of the room. She gave a small yelp and then was quiet. 

The sound of footsteps announced the arrival of the individual before he appeared. Slow, calculating steps that could only belong to one person. He stepped out from around the corner near the fountain, his robes sweeping behind him. Even after all they’d been through, the sight of Snape still managed to make Neville feel ill. He winced as the fobidding form of Severus Snape stalked towards them.

“What are you two doing in here after hours?” Snape drawled, his dark eyes flitting from student to student. Hermione was leaning against the stone wall, her face in a grimace.

“Nothing Headmaster,” Neville said with a tremor in his voice. To admit to doing dark magic would be as good as asking to be expelled. He couldn’t do that to himself and he certainly couldn’t do that to Hermione.

“I heard noises,” Snape continued on as if Neville had said nothing.

“Not us,” Neville continued on, forcing a smile onto his pale face. “Just having a chat.”

“In the girl’s lavatory? At midnight?”

“Yes sir,” Neville nodded. “But then Hermione started to feel a bit ill. I was just about to take her back to the common room when you walked in.”

Snape’s steely gaze moved from Neville and over to Hermione who now stood looking dazedly from Neville to Snape.

“She appears to be fine now,” Snape murmured in a silken tone. “Longbottom, back to your common room. I’m taking ten points for being out past curfew.”

His obsidian gaze darted over to Hermione who stood looking a bit dazed. “Miss Granger, you will remain here. Ten points will also be taken.”

Neville glanced over his shoulder at Hermione, wondering how she wasn’t screaming in pain. The spell hadn’t been completed – what would the side effects be? 

“But sir-“

“Twenty points.”

“Its fine Neville,” came Hermione’s smooth voice from behind him.

Neville turned slowly, not quite believing that she was alright. To his surprise Hermione looked completely at ease, her face flushing prettily and her gaze soft. She gave Neville a sly wink that he found completely out of character.

Unsure of what to do, Neville took Hermione’s wink as acknowledgement that she was fine and that the spell hadn’t worked. The worst thing she’d have to deal with was perhaps a detention with Snape who looked particularly tenebrous.

“I’ll talk to you later, Hermione,” Neville said with another long look at his friend. Hermione gave him a short nod of approval and he went scarpering off, the mandrake still hidden in his bag.

Hermione watched her friend leave before slowly drawing her eyes to the tall and formidable form of Professor Snape. The door behind Neville closed with a bang and soon it was just Hermione and Snape.

She was uncharacteristically quiet as she took his face in – the endless obsidian eyes, the raven’s wing hair, and the contours of his mouth. His left hand twitched at his side, irritated with her bold appraisal of him.

“Miss Granger,” Snape said, scanning the young woman’s face. “You will come with me.”


	3. Chapter 3: The Headmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy St. Valentine's to all my lovely readers! I hope you enjoy the final instalment to our smutty little PWP tale. Please bear in mind that smut isn't my go-to writing style, so please be kind!

It was so late and the corridors were empty. The footfalls of Snape and Hermione echoed as they walked at a quick pace.

Hermione looked at the tall form of Snape moving through the darkened corridor, his wand lit in front of them. His face was impassive, but Hermione could detect the irritation in the clench of his jaw.

Her mind flew back to the day of his trial. She could still see him sitting stiffly there, a thick bandage still wrapped around his neck from the Nagini’s bites. The trial had been a mere formality. Given the death of Albus it had been only natural to bring him in.

But the memories Harry shared and Hermione and Ron’s testimony of his heroic actions combined with several Death Eater confirmations that Snape was always conspicuously absent when it came to harming muggles, the decision had been swift. He was a free man and awarded _Order of Merlin, First Class._

The owls to Hogwarts in the following months had been insurmountable, demanding Snape return to his abandoned position as Headmaster. Letters to the editor of both _the Quibbler_ and the _Daily Prophet_ had been published with many citing that any man who could work with such subterfuge alongside Voldemort without detection and bring him down must be a most commanding and capable wizard. He was the man they wanted protecting and teaching their children. 

Still, Hermione had been mightily surprised when she returned for her final year at Hogwarts to see Snape standing there welcoming the new and returning students. And now to see him here, still stalking the corridors gave her pause.

Had he always been this attractive? The sensual way he moved – his pelvis leading the way. Hermione had always thought it was a motion to indicate confidence, but now in the rosy view of her vision it seemed to be unnaturally sexual.

They approached the gargoyle who stepped aside at the sight of Snape. Hermione continued up after the Headmaster, noticing from her vantage point that he had quite a firm, delicious looking derriere. 

They entered into his office with Snape watching her bushy head disappear around the doorframe. She moved slowly, delicately as if she were taking in everything before her.

She hadn’t been in the Headmaster’s office since the days of Dumbledore. She was surprised to see that very little had changed aside from the banners of silver and green that littered the cozy space.

The fire was burning in the hearth and Hermione realized that Snape had obviously still been wide awake before he found she and Neville. What had he been doing this late at night? Could he still not sleep? Was he still haunted by images of the war, as she and Neville were?

“I see that being Head Girl has gone to your head,” Snape scoffed.

“Not at all,” Hermione answered easily, finding she wasn’t as afraid of Snape as she normally would be. She moved to the nearest bookshelf and scanned the titles. She had never been called into Snape’s office and so seeing the ancient tomes he had lining his sagging shelves had her entranced.

“Oh no?” Snape sneered as he brushed past her. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the contact. 

“No,” Hermione answered resolutely. “In fact I find it to be a great honor.”

“You show such belief in a strange way, Miss Granger. As head girl it is utterly improper for you to be out in the castle after hours,” Snape was behind his desk now, giving her a level look accompanied by a voice dripping with disdain. “And to be found with a young man in a darkened room? How inappropriate.”

Hermione was only half listening to him, her eyes glued to the books underneath her fingertips. There were so many books here on every subject imaginable. The sight made her heart flutter. Or was it that a result of being so close to Headmaster Snape, alone and late at night? Hermione began tracing a forefinger along the spine of one of the larger books before turning slowly and giving him a coquettish smile.

“Did you think we were fucking, sir?”

_Did I really just say that?_

Snape had been opening a nearby wardrobe, but at her question he stood ramrod straight, turning to face her with his dark eyes glittering malevolently. 

“What did you just say, Miss Granger?”

“Nothing sir,” Hermione said, tilting her head downward in the very image of subservience. Her pulse was ticking in her neck, and she was confused at this hazy sensation in her body. It was as if she wasn’t worried about anything anymore.

She felt...amorous. And the forbidding wizard across from her was so damned attractive. Snape blinked a moment, as if certain he had heard her incorrectly. He continued to search his nearby wardrobe, the sounds of clinking glass greeting Hermione.

Moments later he reappeared from behind the door of the wardrobe holding a small pale blue phial. Inside was what appeared to be a cream with a pearl sheen. Snape stepped towards her, extending the phial in her direction.

“Your knees are scraped,” Snape said boredly. “Here is a paste. Apply it before bed and it should be healed by morning.”

Hermione took the phial from him and in the process felt their fingertips touch. Electricity shot through her body, starting at her nipples and surging through her. She bit back a gasp as she felt her face grow hot and a steady heartbeat began between her legs.

“Sir, I’m afraid I might need some help,” Hermione said, her voice husky. “Would you mind applying it for me?”

“Do your hands not work?” Snape snapped.

“They do, but I think you’ll do a more thorough job,” Hermione purred.

Snape stared harshly at her but made no move to do as she requested. She felt her pulse quicken as his eyes roamed her body, coming to land on her eyes. She felt her breath become shallow as the intense eye contact continued.

“What were you and Longbottom up to in that lavatory?”

“Nothing sir,” Hermione lied boldfaced, her cheeks stained pink. “But I know that being out past curfew was inappropriate.”

They lapsed into a heavy silence with Snape tracing his lower lip with his forefinger in thought. It was plainly obvious to him that the chit was lying, and from what he could tell the two of them had been dabbling in something they didn’t understand. 

Hermione however didn’t look nervous or edgy. In fact she looked completely at ease as she approached him then. There was something in her body guiding her towards him, desperate to touch him. She stood inches from him, her eyes falling on his cruel mouth. 

“I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit, sir.”

This close Snape could see the sheen to the girl’s warm brown eyes. And as her mouth parted and she breathed he inhaled deeply, clearing his mind and coming to the immediate conclusion. 

"You've eaten mandrake leaves," Snape said flatly, a sneer stretching over his pallid features. "Regular or Briony?" 

"Briony," Hermione replied dreamily. She didn't feel nervous admitting as such to him and in fact at the sight of his sneer she felt her panties growing damp. Snape rolled his eyes at her actions.

"I thought as much. It would explain your ludicrous behavior." He pushed back from her. “Although I don’t know where you would have found such a thing.” 

“Neville found it,” Hermione answered without thinking. 

“I can only assume you were using it for a spell?” Snape frowned as Hermione confirmed this with a nod. “And what was it for, exactly? Briony mandrake leaves are used only in dark magic.”

“It was the _Geminus spell,_ For his parents,” Hermione said with a frown. “He hoped to give them some relief. We weren’t trying to dabble in dark arts, sir. He was just so desperate to help his parents and the spell has to be done with two people. I just couldn’t say no.” 

Snape couldn’t find it within him to mock that. He simply sighed through his overly large nose and brought a frustrated finger to his temple. It was late and he was tired and he felt like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in twenty years.

“And were you successful?” 

“Yes,” Herimone answered, surprised that Snape wasn’t screaming at her for doing something so dangerous. 

“Well, sort of. Neville managed to create his non-corpeal double and project his nightmares onto it. We were halfway through mine when you came in.” 

"The spell was aborted too early," Snape realized slowly. He moved to the far corner of the room and began to dig through the phials there. Hermione watched him, slowly calculating within her mind.

“That explains why there was no non-corpeal me," Hermione nodded "With Neville, I saw what his manifestation looked like. But if the spell ended too early for me, what’s going to happen to me?"

"That spell remains within you I'm afraid," Scape explained as he plucked the amber coloured phial from the group. "Along with a highly concentrated creation of what you were seeking. What were _you_ seeking, Miss Granger?"

"I... I wanted to feel again. I wanted my double to take away all those numb feelings." 

"Mmm," Scape gave a scornful look in her direction. "How delightfully vague. Try again Miss Granger and keep in mind any subterfuge will result in immediate expulsion."

The feelings within Hermione were bouncing about in her chest. A large part of her feared expulsion. A large part of her dreaded what Snape's reaction would be when she confessed her motivations. But strangely the feeling that encased her the most at present was the distracting way the Headmaster spoke.

How had she never noticed it before? The low, rumbling thunder in his baritone. The slow, languid tempo punctuated with subtle menace. It seemed to surround her, melting against her skin and causing her to feel light headed. 

"I wanted to feel... Amorous towards a former boyfriend," Hermione squeaked, trying to stop the pink from rising on her face. "Since the war such things have been... Hard."

Snape knew of Hermione and Ron’s relationship – it was impossible for anyone with a Daily Prophet subscription not to. Their trials and tribulations had been splashed all over the cover for months. Their fall from romantic grace had been particularly exploited. 

"It's not the war, you silly girl," Snape reprimanded. "No matter the spell, you'll never feel for the Weasley boy the way you did. You've changed. Now drink this.”

He shoved the phial into her hand and looked expectantly to her face. Hermione wanted to do as he said, but his previous comment was making her head feel fuzzy. 

"Will I never feel romantic with anyone?" Hermione was horrified to feel tears slipping down her cheeks. 

Snape's eyes whispered against her face before dropping to the table between them. Whether it was out of embarrassment or kindness she couldn't tell. As potions professor and head of Slytherin, Snape had never had to deal with Griffindor students under his care. 

They were sentimental, earnest and rather irritating compared to the Slytherin students. But as Headmaster, Snape had a responsibility for all of them, even if they came in the annoying form of the Head Girl. 

"Miss Granger I don't presume to know your personal life, nor do I wish to. But have you tried romancing others?"

"No," Hermione answered honestly. "I've been so fixated on Ron-"

"I suggest you look elsewhere," Snape interrupted, having no desire to think about Ron Weasley since he was no longer a student. Hermione didn't look satisfied with this response. 

_In for a knut, in for a galleon._

"It's not just the romance," Hermione blurted. "I want things to go back to the way they were with Ron and me and Harry. All together again. Holidays at the burrow. Butter beer at the three broomsticks. The only way that works is if Ron and I are a couple, he doesn't want to just be friends." 

She watched as the normally staid posture of Snape faltered a moment. His forefingers were on the desk, bracing himself. It seemed as if he were trying to gain a semblance of internal control.

“You want to return to a time that no longer exists,” Snape said quietly. “Forcing what isn’t there will end in heartache for you both. Trust me, I know."

Hermione was quiet as Snape said this. And as if realizing that he had shown more of himself than intended he straightened up and indicated she needed to drink.

“Drink Miss Granger,” Snape said without a trace of horror or interest. “I haven’t all night.” 

Hermione nodded, tilting the amber liquid into her mouth and swallowing it quickly. It had very little taste, but she was quite certain that she could taste a bit of raspberry cordial at the end. 

Snape approached her, tilting her chin up so that he could see her eyes. They looked less glossy now, more focused. 

“What happens now?” Hermione whispered, surprised that she hadn’t thought to question this before. She had simply willingly surrendered to what Snape had told her.

“The feelings will disappate,” Snape replied evenly, watching her. “You will be as you were before.”

“With the same feelings inside me?”

“Yes.”

Hermione knew that it was her punishment – to have to live with the feelings she had been trying to put on a double of herself. But strangely after her talk with Snape it didn’t seem as frightening a possibility. What was worse was trying to force a romantic relationship with Ron. She couldn’t force what wasn’t there and she had no desire to.

Her friendships would change and that was alright. It would be hard not to be as involved with Harry and Ginny and Ron as she had been. But she was a strong woman who was very capable of doing just that.

A swell of thankfulness built within her as she stared up at the pale face of Snape. He was still scrutinizing her face, especially her eyes, likely looking for any sign that the potion didn’t work.

He smelled delicious this close – like potion ingredients and a masculine musk she couldn’t quite place. It was intoxicating being this close to him. The strange rosy feeling she had been operating under was gone, leaving her highly aware of her surroundings.

She could feel the soft forefinger of his right hand pressed into the flesh under her chin, rising her face to meet his. A surge of arousal shot through her and she absently licked her lips.

"Sir how long does the potion take to relieve me of my symptoms?"

"It was instantaneous," Snape replied distractedly as her dropped her chin. "This potion acts immediately to avoid the toxins from reaching the brain or heart.”

"Then why do I still feel... Well," Hermione felt her heart pounding so loudly she almost couldn't hear herself speak. "As if I want to make love to you?" 

Snape’s eyes blew wide a moment, so wide that Hermione could see the white surrounding them. Then just as quickly as he’d done that, his features were schooled once more.

" _Make love_ to me?” Snape scoffed openly. “I’m to believe you’ve harboured long hidden feelings for me?”

“No,” Hermione answered honestly. “But now that I’m not as afraid of you, I find you quite attractive. Your voice especially.” 

Snape blinked rapidly at that. “Miss Granger, compose yourself.”

“I am well of age,” Hermione said with a wry smile. “I’ll be twenty in a few months. I’m also not a fool, I know what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want you,” Hermione replied, closing the distance between them. “Even if it’s just for a night.”

Snape was moving backwards from Hermione, as if she were Fluffy on the loose.

“You need to leave.”

“Please don’t push me away,” Hermione begged. These feelings were monumental, as if a dam had been broken and she could finally admit them freely. “You’re the only one who understands like I do.”

“Rubbish.”

“You live your life bottled up! You have ghosts like the rest of us. You’re just more adept to hiding them,” Hermione’s voice was thick with emotion. “But I see you. I understand. I have ghosts too. And you’re the first man who’s ever made me feel anything since the war.”

Snape stared at Hermione for a long moment, his features hard and unrelenting.

“You’ve been though much at a young age,” he said, moving to sit behind the desk. “And because of that I will forget what you’ve said this evening. But I urge you to stop now, Miss Granger before you go too far. Now leave.”

He turned, facing the window and looking into the pitch black night before him. His head was spinning and he tried all he could to focus on the windowpane in front of him.

_What was the ludicrous girl saying? That she fancied him? That she wanted him sexually?_

His heart was in his throat and his palms itched. Hermione Granger may have been almost twenty, but she was still under his care for several more weeks.

But there had been a truth in what she said – no one understood heartbreak and war like those who had lived through it. And yes, there was a part of him that knew what she meant. And would it be so bad? Kissing her? Holding her?

_Stop. Stop even entertaining the thought._

He collapsed into his chair, swiveling it to find Hermione still standing there, looking uncertain. He felt his pulse quicken at the sight- she was a fetching woman. Highly intelligent, annoying but so brilliant. 

“Please,” she said, coming around the desk slowly. Snape watched as closely as if she had been Nagini. Nothing in his body language encouraged or even welcomed her. And yet as her thighs came to press against his kneecaps he didn’t pull away.

“Just one night.”

“Never.”

Hermione ignored him, likely because she could hear there was no power behind what he said. He had spent so long unloved and untouched. And here was this beautiful young woman who was his equal in every way truly _wanting_ him.

Perhaps this was why when she came to swing a casual leg over his lap and lower herself onto him, he didn’t push her away. Instead he regarded her in mute fascination, watching as she settled herself there as if she belonged.

The two sat there for several breathless moments, memorizing the other’s face. Hermione’s dark eyes started at the haunted eyes of Snape, moving down his ludicrous nose and fluttering over the sensual slopes of his mouth.

Her eyes dipped lower, down to the cravat he always wore. Without thinking, her hands moved there, nimbly pulling and tugging until it was gone. Her fingertips drew open his lawn shirt and there were the pink and puckered looking scars from Nagini.

“You can barely see them,” Hermione whispered, touching them with her forefinger. Snape flinched, moving his hand to her hips in preparation to push her off. “No, don’t.”

“I won’t be prodded like an experiment,” Snape growled, realizing what a mistake this had all been.

Before he could manage to push the excitable Gryffindor from his lap Hermione’s head had lowered to his neck. He held his breath as the first petal-soft touch of her lips pressed there, just below his jugular. The scars she caressed with her mouth tingled.

Her fingers nimbly were coming to unclasp his robe as her mouth continued their ascent, from his pulsing neck to his strong jaw, until they grazed his earlobe and he shuddered. He couldn’t help it – the feeling was so intimate and yet so foreign. 

"Please Headmaster," Hermione purred with her lips grazing his earlobe. "I’ve done so much wrong tonight. I want you to punish me as you see fit." 

His hands were on her shoulders immediately, holding her at a distance. If it weren't for the desperation she felt for him at that moment, Hermione could have laughed at his response.

The normally vitriolic man who always had something rude to say was wide eyed and staring at her, completely shocked.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, his voice thick and low.“I have no interest in bedding you, Miss Granger.” 

Before more could be said Hermione suppressed a squeak as a very prominent bulge began to build in Snape’s trousers under where she sat. 

“You may deny wanting me,” Hermione said softly, her mouth inches from his. “But your body tells the truth.” 

Before he could insist they stop again, Hermione had pressed a full mouthed kiss against Snape’s surprised mouth. She heard Snape’s intake of breath and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth more firmly against hers.

She parted her lips, teasing the seal of his mouth before it parted, welcoming her into his depths. He tasted of coffee and spearmint and she wanted nothing more than to fuck him right there in his chair. Snape however seemed to have other plans.

His hands were on her body, pulling her tightly against him. He could no longer deny wanting this delightful creature who wanted him so openly. He didn’t care if it was just for a night – he would take it.

“This is a dangerous game,” he growled in her ear, his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of her hip deeply. Hermione pulled back, ensuring that he could see the honesty in her eyes.

“It’s not a game to me.”

Hermione let out a small squeal as he stood, holding her by her thighs and stumbling across the room. Holding Hermione against his body and not breaking their kiss, Snape kicked the door open to his chambers in the adjoining room. It flew open and he quickly moved them to the bed.

Hermione didn’t even care to see his room, though she would have been unsurprised to see that it was sparse and rather barren looking. But it had a luxurious big bed with delightful blankets and that was all she really cared about.

She began to pull off her blouse, her fingers trembling with anticipation. In frustration she tore the offending garment from her body, smiling as the sound of falling buttons bounced all over the room. She giggled, kneeling on the bed before Snape in nothing but her skirt and socks.

Snape had watched this all in rapt fascination, shrugging off his outer robe and moving to his frock coat. He let it fall to the ground as Hermione crawled enticingly towards him, like a feral kneazle.

He divested himself of his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his lawn shirt out of habit. He moved to the edge of the bed, smiling gently as Hermione arched up, pressing her palms against his chest. He felt the warmth through his shirt and he swallowed, suddenly nervous.

"I want all of you," Hermione whimpered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “ I'm so ready for you. Feel."

Snape let out the softest moan at her plea and the sensation of her hand on his. Without breaking eye contact he felt as her hand began to guide his down her silken abdomen.

She whimpered as his long fingers came to cup her sex. Already he could smell the musk of her arousal and feel the silken pool between her thighs. 

He snatched his hand away, his breathing shallow and quick. 

"Why did you stop?" 

Snape looked suddenly ashamed of himself, his eyes looking around the room madly as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "We shouldn't-"

“Oh enough of that!” Hermione interrupted, her hand going down Snape’s front and cupping him through his clothing. She felt his thick cock twitch under her ministrations. No matter what he said, he obviously wanted her as much as she wanted him. His eyelids fluttered.

"Fuck!"

"I've never heard you curse before," Hermione said with an amused smile as her hand snaked up to the belt of his trousers.

Snape raised a coal black brow in question. "Did it offend?"

"On the contrary," Hermione replied."It enticed."

Snape knew that this was already past the point of no return. He had a half naked student in his bed, desperate for him to fuck her. And he knew that nothing in this world would drag him away at this moment – not even if Voldemort himself came back from life and began doing a jig. All he could see was Hermione Granger with her hand on his belt, desperately trying to release him. 

"In that case," Snape purred, moving towards her. "Lean back and part your thighs. I want to taste that delicious cunt of yours." 

Hermione shivered at the word, so biting and yet so sensual coming from him in that rumbling, dark voice. And she did as he asked with relish. She lay back, arching and waiting for his mouth. 

She felt as his fingers slipped under the band of her panties and dragged them quickly down her legs. They were soaking wet and Snape felt a new surge of arousal go through him at the sight. 

Without warning he had pulled towards him at the edge of the bed. On his knees beside the bed, he placed her parted thighs on his shoulder and began to taste her.

The first swipe of his tongue had Hermione groaning in delight. The knowledge that Severus Snape, the most powerful living wizard, was lapping between her legs was enough to have her faint.

She muffled her cries of delight as his mouth delved deeper, not wanting to embarrass herself. Snape stopped abruptly, wrenching a devastated whimper from Hermione as she propped herself up on her elbows. Snape’s inky hair and pale face shone from the light of the moon, his mouth glistening. 

"You're not going to go quiet on me now," Snape growled, his eyes like daggers. "You've always been a loud, bossy little know it all. Tonight we use that to our advantage." 

Hermione felt as he nipped at her throbbing bud. Electricity shot through her body at the touch and she twitched under his palms. She fell back, her body arching under his mouth. His nose pressed against her clit and that combined with the lovely way his tongue and mouth were working was causing Hermione to writhe. 

"Oh fuck!" 

Snape continued to lap at her, tasting her arousal and finding himself becoming harder by the second. Had he ever been able to be so sensual with a woman? To taste her like this? To see her hands clench the bed sheets as she whimpered for more? And how would he go back to a normal life after this? Hermione’s thighs were beginning to quiver around his ears and he smiled against her softness.

"Tell me you want to come,” he said in his most silken of tones. “Beg me. Loudly."

Hermione would have done anything at that moment. She would have gladly handed in her wand if it meant she could come on Snape’s delicious tongue. Her voice was anguished and desperate.

"Please! Oh please!" 

Snape stopped suddenly, bringing her legs back from his shoulders and closing her thighs as if she were a particularly boring book. Hermione was back leaning on her elbows at once, a look of betrayal crossing her features. Snape took in her flushed face and wild hair and felt his cock twitch.

"W- why did you stop?" 

"This is a punishment Miss Granger," Snape said, standing beside the edge of the bed. "Is it not?" 

"Yes, sir." Hermione watched in delighted fascination as Snape stepped out of his trousers whilst shrugging off his shirt. Moments later he stood before her naked and beautiful in the moonlight streaming from his window. 

“This is what you want?” He motioned to his pale form, littered in scars. Hermione felt her heart melt when she saw the uncertainty in Snape’s eyes. Hermione jumped up from the bed and into his arms, covering him with eager kisses.

“Oh yes!” 

She heard Snape chuckle lowly –chuckle! Snape! – and they fell to the bed, kissing and groping. When he kissed her, Hermione felt her body going up in flames. His mouth moved deftly from her collar and down to the swell of her breasts with such casual sensuality that she momentarily forgot that he didn’t already know her body. 

When he sucked her nipple into his warm, hot mouth she felt bolts of electricity shoot down her body. His nose nuzzled her abdomen, pressing sweet kisses there. He lingered before crawling back up the length of her body and hovering his mouth an inch front hers. His eyes were devouring her own and his voice was low, and husky when he spoke next.

“You are exquisite.” 

Before Hermione could properly sigh at this, his mouth was on hers, and her thighs parted instinctually. She felt his fingers there, teasing and testing her. She knew he wanted to continue to touch her, to make her come this way but she needed him to bury himself inside her. Her hands came to wrap around his cock, feeling the head glistening with pre cum. 

“I need you inside me,” she panted as they broke apart, her hand slowly pumping him. “Please don’t make me wait.” 

Snape looked down at Hermione, her lips reddened from kissing, her face damp from sweat. Their breathing was in time, quick and shallow. He wanted her so badly he could barely believe it. He had already gone this far – he was a condemned man either way. He nodded and her hand guided him to her center. 

She was so hot and slick when he entered her, her walls enveloping his cock with a snug and welcoming homecoming. Hermione let out a small sound halfway between a moan and a whimper and Snape could see her eyes were shut tightly. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

“No,” Hermione replied, arching her back and driving his cock deeper. “You just feel so good.” 

Her hips were starting to gyrate, and Snape thrust upwards slowly. She made a soft cooing sound as inch by inch he nestled within her. When he was fully encased he slowly withdrew and slid back in.

“Oh! Do that again,” Hermione groaned, gripping his waist and urging him to recreate the motion. Her eyes were still shut, and Snape allowed himself to stare at her soft face and it’s disarming candor. Her wild hair was splayed underneath her like a frizzy blanket and Snape realized he had never found anyone as fetching as he did Hermione Granger in this moment. 

“Open your eyes,” Snape urged.

Hermione’s eyes cracked open slowly and she felt a fluttering begin in her chest. Snape’s face was inches from her, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. This close she could see the length of his black eyelashes and the way his mouth parted ever so slightly. The sight made her mouth go dry.

“Faster,” Hermione grunted, her hips trying to increase the tempo. Snape, propped on his elbows, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth before pulling back. 

"Don't rush it," Snape murmured in honeyed tones. "I want you to take your time. It makes it so much better when you reach the end." 

Hermione swooned, feeling as if she were falling through time. Her entire body felt as it could melt into the mattress beneath her. Had she ever been so tenderly fucked in her life?

Making love with Ron had been fun and rather uncomfortable. But they'd laughed and enjoyed it. But now? In the embrace and heated gaze of Severus Snape, Hermione realized what had been missing all those years. 

It wasn’t just the mental connection they shared, it was physical as well. He felt good and he touched her in all the ways she craved. She didn’t feel tentative in wanting him to touch her, only burning need.

Snape, who’s keen attention was always on the potions he made or the spells he crafted, was now turning all this intense scrutiny onto Hermione and for the first time since she had fallen into his bed she felt embarrassed.

She turned her face slightly, groaning as Snape’s cock continued to slide in and out of her below. His fingertips were there now on her clit, teasing it as he fucked her. 

"Don't you dare look away from me," Snape ground out. His thrusting continued, harsh and unyielding.

Hermione felt her gaze being drawn back into the watching face of Snape. A tremor of forbidden delight surged through her. He leaned back slightly, shifting her gaze to where they joined.

"Look at this," Snape continued, urging her to watch as his rosy-headed cock slid out a fraction before sliding back into her dripping slot. The sight was visceral and graphic and she felt her entire body rippling with unexpected pleasure. 

"This is what you need," Snape grunted above her. "A man. Not some empty headed boy. You need a man to properly fuck you."

"Yes," Hermione groaned, knowing that what he said was true. Her head fell back but her eyes stayed on his. 

"Yesss," he urged in a deliciously sibilant murmur. "I want to watch your face as you milk my cock."

These obscene, beautifully filthy words were coming from Snape and it was doing things to Hermione. He was fucking her, the Headmaster was fucking her and he wanted to see her reaction. His body was coiled, ready and Hermione felt her thighs begin to tremble as his cock pistoned in and out of her sopping quim.

"Yes! Oh God, yes!" 

He was groaning, making small grunting noises as he fucked her mercilessly. The buildup was excruciating and watching her breasts bounce with every thrust he delivered was causing him to feel heady. Her lips were parted and she was gripping onto his hips for dear life, silently willing him to drive more deeply into her.

"I want to watch you shatter under me, Hermione." 

He dragged out the "e" in her name ever so slightly, turning it into a beckoning hiss. The sound of her name on his lips was what did it. She couldn't hold back any longer if she tried. And he knew it.

"That's it," he grunted, never letting his eyes leave hers. "Come for me.”

And she did.

Wails were wrenched from her and wave after pleasurable wave rippled within her. Lights went off behind her eyes and she pulled his neck until his mouth was on hers as his cock continued to thrust within her. He followed her moments later, their mouths breaking apart as he let out a heavy groan when he spilled himself within her. 

Hermione shuddered in delight at the sensation of him emptying himself into her. Their gaze never broke apart and when he finally completed, Hermione saw a tear starting at the corner of his left eye. 

He collapsed into her neck, kissing there and holding her to him. She could feel his heartbeat and its powerful staccato as she clung to him. Tears were starting at her eyes as well, and she allowed them to fall silently. 

It was early the next morning when they woke, still tangled in each other’s arms. It was Hermione who spoke first, her eyes wide and uncertainly trained on the naked, sleepy form of Snape at her side. He was facing her, but his eyes were closed and she was struck by how peaceful he looked like that. 

“Severus?” She tested the name, liking how it sounded on her tongue. 

She reached out and pushed a strand of dark hair from his face. He stirred slightly, but his eyes remained closed. 

"Mmm?”

“I know I said I only wanted one night,” Hermione admitted, feeling anxious. “But I think I might have been too hasty.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’d like several more nights like that.” 

Snape still didn’t open his eyes, but he did reach over and pull her tightly to him. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and she snuggled into his embrace.

“I’m amenable to such terms.”

Hermione felt a gurgling laugh starting within her body, but she tempered it. She didn't want to scare him off with some early morning maniacal laughter.

“And if we enjoy the nights perhaps those will turn into days,” Hermione hedged, her forehead against his chin. It was easy speaking to him when she couldn’t see him staring at her. “And perhaps we won’t have to bottle things up anymore. We’ll just... be.”

Snape didn’t say anything and with a feeling of complete devastation Hermione glanced up to see him looking down at her with a smile. Relief and confusion flooded her all at once. “What are you smirking at?”

“I’m just in shock,” Snape replied with a tone of amusement. “I was just thinking that Longbottom finally did something right.”

Hermione let out a small surprised laugh and allowed Snape to pull her into an early morning kiss of tender promise. Their arms and legs became entangled once more and soon Snape was making love to her in the early morning sunlight.

As it turned out, Hermione Granger was perfectly fine with feeling after all.


End file.
